


The Sound of Your Voice, The Sound of Your Laugh

by fromcrossroadstoking



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Fluff, Luz just really has a thing for the way Roe sounds, M/M, and I think we can all relate to that, falling in love at Toccoa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromcrossroadstoking/pseuds/fromcrossroadstoking
Summary: George Luz has a hobby of collecting voices. He has hundreds of impersonations memorized but there's one particular voice that eludes him, so he sets out to do everything he can to capture it and add it to his expansive collection. He ends up capturing something much more along the way,
Relationships: George Luz/Eugene Roe
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	The Sound of Your Voice, The Sound of Your Laugh

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the HBO War characterizations, not the actual men.

George Luz collects impressions the way others might collect rocks or coins or stamps. His imitations include everyone from his first grade teacher to the clerk at the corner store back home to the likes of Major Horton. He takes a certain pride in his peculiar collection - the sheer span of accents, dialects, and speaking quirks is downright impressive (or so he likes to think). And after only a few months at Toccoa he has damn near his whole company down pat., There’s a few voices he’s not interested in learning - they’re either too plain or too similar to ones he’s already picked up. There is, however, one voice that he’s dying to collect like an auditory version of those butterflies pinned in frames. And it’s slowly driving Luz up the wall that he hasn't yet captured this particular butterfly- **  
**

_Eugene Roe._

The man just doesn’t talk enough. Luz can count on one hand the amount of times Roe’s talked to him. Hardly enough for Luz to perfect any sort of impression but more than enough for the Cajun accent to capture his full attention. Roe’s voice isn’t anything like Luz has heard before. There’s nothing like it in Luz’s repertoire of stolen voices and Luz can feel a growing desperation to add the warm Cajun lilt to his hoard.

And then there comes the day he manages to get a laugh out of Roe after an offhand comment during one of their night marches and the desperation grows. It wasn’t a chuckle or one of those breathy huffs of amusement, but a real, honest to god, laugh - a laugh that spreads a sunshine warmth through Luz’s body. And, oh, now there’s a laugh he’d love to stash away in his memory forever, replaying it whenever he needed to feel that particular warm glow again - if only he could hear it once more so that he could properly engrave it in his mind.

-

Over the following weeks, Luz, being both desperate and determined, does what he can to insert himself into Roe’s life. Using his abundance of charm, Luz gets himself assigned to the same duties around camp as Roe. Luz also makes sure to plant himself next to Roe on marches and runs. When meal times roll around, Luz makes sure to grab a spot at the same table as Roe. Slowly but surely Luz becomes a front and center daily fixture in Roe’s life.

But even with his constant presence, it still takes a surprising amount of time for Roe to open up to him. Roe isn’t shy, just slow to let himself get attached, and Luz approaches it as a challenge. That makes two challenges now - impersonating Roe’s voice and getting him to open up - and, well, Luz does enjoy a challenge (or two). 

-

It’s been over a month now and still Luz has no grasp on that unique Cajun accent. He’s had more conversations with the man than probably anyone else on base and yet no dice. Every time he tries his ever-evolving Roe impression out in front of Perconte or Skip or one of his other friends, it elicits nothing but laughs but not for the reasons he wants.

As time passes, the laughs slowly change over to moans and eye rolls - being bombarded almost daily by less than stellar attempts at a Cajun accent can get tiring, even if they love Luz dearly.

-

Luz and Perconte are making their way back to their barracks one afternoon, Luz complaining yet again about his inability to capture the particular smoothness of Roe’s voice, when Perconte interrupts with an annoyed sigh and a mumbled “ _Jesus Christ_.”

“The hell’s your problem?”

“You think maybe you can’t get his voice down ‘cause you don’t wanna?”

“What?”

“I’m just sayin’, maybe you don’t really wanna get his voice right ‘cause then you ain’t got an excuse to talk to him all the damn time.”

“What? No. That’s not... no. I just…”

Suddenly his own voice, and every single voice he had ever collected, fails him and he’s left with no words.

-

The next day Luz stares hard at Roe during breakfast. He doesn’t mean to stare like he does but his mind is working overtime, chewing its way around what Perconte said the day before. Because maybe Perconte was right. Maybe what Luz is doing has to do with more than just trying to perfect yet another impression. More than just adding to his already expansive collection. Maybe there really was more to this than the way he enjoys how a certain Cajun accent rings in his ears and curls its way along his spine...

Over the course of the rest of the day, Luz begins to slowly realize just how often Roe crowds his thoughts. He seems to occupy a spot in Luz’s mind almost constantly, maybe not always at the forefront but always there, hovering in the background. He also catches how often his eyes wander to where Roe is, as if they have a mind of their own and know what they like to look at. And the fact that almost every time Luz’s eyes glance over at Roe only to find Roe is looking right back? Oh, that certainly catches Luz’s attention too. It has already happened a handful of times that day when Luz and Roe lock eyes as they step up to the obstacle course, only inches away from each other this time. Luz can feel an odd sensation in his stomach, as if the entire thing flipped over and got itself all tangled up. The thought that perhaps he shouldn’t have eaten that mystery meat at lunch today crosses Luz’s mind.

(The mystery meat has nothing to do with the feeling in his stomach. Even if Luz doesn't acknowledge it at that moment.)

-

The following morning, as Luz is quietly marveling at the way the word _Louisiana_ sounded as it left Roe’s mouth during a story about home earlier, he’s startled by Roe’s sudden grip on his arm.

“You alright, George?”

_George_. Roe used his first name - the thought makes him feel something he can’t quite put his finger on.

Blinking up at Roe, George stumbles over his response, “Yeah, yeah I’m alright. I’m… I zoned out a second I guess.” Luz smiles as brightly as he can, a little too aware of just how much of his mind had just been dedicated to simply thinking about the way Roe says _Louisiana_. He can feel his cheeks warm at the thought.

“Alright, then.” Roe smiles back, nodding, and although he says nothing further there’s a hesitation before he finally lets go of Luz’s arm and turns back to stacking crates.

Luz goes back to stacking crates as well, his arm still warm from where Roe’s hand had just been.

-

It’s a Tuesday when it happens. Luz finds it a bit funny that something so significant would happen on a Tuesday of all days and yet…

Roe heads to a quiet spot under a tree to get some field medicine studying done. Luz follows along under the guise of needing a quiet place to get a nap in. As they settle into their respective spots under the tree, Roe gets right to studying while Luz picks up a stick and starts poking at some monstrous bug. A few moments pass in peace before the bug decides he’s had enough of being poked at and flies off, making a quick detour to fly straight into Luz’s face before going on his way. In a panic, Luz slams the side of his head against the tree as he tries to veer out of the bug’s path.

“Ow! Fuck!” Luz rubs the side of his head, wincing.

Roe reaches out and gently rubs the side of Luz’s head, his lips twitching up involuntarily in amusement.

“Big mean bug almost get you, George?”

In faux seriousness Luz responds, “It was a close call, Gene. Could have gotten taken out before I even got my jump wings.”

“Hmmm, that would have been a shame. Hate to celebrate gettin’ our wings without you.” Roe leans over and presses a soft kiss to the side of Luz’s head. Luz can hardly hide the surprise on his face at the gesture and it seems neither can Roe - the look on his face as he sits back makes it clear that he surprised himself with the action as well.

They stare at each other in silence, shocked and unsure of what to do or say. The building tension drives Luz to do the one thing his suddenly overloaded mind can scramble to come up with - kiss Roe. The kiss is a bit rough and quick, over in seconds, but the mere press of their lips together is enough to leave both their hearts racing wildly in their chests.

“Oh.” Roe looks almost… _awed_ at the unexpected contact of Luz’s lips against his own. 

“Yeah,” a smile slowly spreads across Luz’s face, “Oh.”

-

The days melt into each other - each one filled with running, barely edible Army food, Sobel’s screaming, marching, and more marching. Roe and Luz steal time whenever and wherever they can, which doesn’t amount to much in Army training, especially Army training under Sobel. But the time they can spend together is spent with a new closeness, with talking, with laughter, and with plenty of (hurried) kisses too.

-

They’re cleaning the barracks one hot and sunny afternoon, just the two of them, when the previously chaste kisses become something more. In the blink of an eye, Luz is pinned between a wall and Roe’s warm body. Their kisses are hungry and impatient, speaking volumes in and of themselves. Luz’s hands are curled into the front of Roe’s shirt, holding him close as Roe’s hands slip beneath the hem of Luz’s shirt, fingers running curiously over the skin he finds there.

Their intimate moment is interrupted by the grating sound of Sobel’s voice, complaining to an unknown second party, as he walks by the barracks. The kissing stops immediately but the two men freeze in place like deer caught in headlights as they listen to Sobel pass by. As soon as Sobel’s voice fades in the distance, Luz grins up at Roe and in his best Sobel impression says, “Is this what you call cleaning, gentlemen?! Because what I see is _not_ Army standard cleaning!”

Roe collapses against Luz in a fit of laughter, face buried in the crook of Luz’s neck. The sound of his laughter reverberates through Luz’s body, spreading an indescribable joy deep into his bones. 

Roe’s laughter is his favorite sound of all.

-

It’s during one of their many, many runs up Currahee just a few days later, that they manage to attract the ire of Sobel. Sobel is already turning red in the face, yelling at the company non-stop, when Roe and Luz make the mistake of sharing an inside joke that gets them both laughing. As punishment for their merriment, their weekend passes are revoked and they’re assigned the task of spending their Saturday inventorying and reorganizing the stuffy, overcrowded supply shed behind the barracks.

(It’s hardly a punishment.)

-

Saturday rolls around, dawning clear and bright, and finding Roe and Luz, alone and unsupervised in a dusty supply shed, an entire day stretching before them.

The aloneness is a rare opportunity and it’s quite clear that neither wants to waste it. They are almost immediately glued together, moving as one, towards the back of the supply shed. Luz is so enraptured by the way Roe’s body fits against his own and the taste of Roe in his mouth, he hardly even notices when they go from vertical to horizontal. It’s not until the sharp corner of a metal buckle digs into his back does his mind start processing semi-coherent thoughts again. 

_Roe is here. On top of him. Kissing him. While they lay on a bed of reserve chutes._

Luz pulls Roe closer, fingers curling into the hair at the back of Roe’s head as he slams their mouths together greedily. _More_ is all he can think now - _more, more, more_. He hooks his legs around Roe’s as he tightens his grip in Roe’s hair. The move elicits a soft moaning sound from the back of Roe’s throat. The sound sends a shock wave of pleasure through Luz’s body. It’s a sound he knows he'll never replicate on his own (it’s too innately _Gene_ , much like his voice) so he settles for doing whatever he can to drag that sound out of Roe again, just so he can hear it again and again and again. 

Within the space of a few breaths, Luz is already discovering a myriad of new Roe sounds and all the ways he can move his hands and mouth to induce even more. It’s a game, a challenge - _What will Roe sound like when I move my hand here? When I kiss him there?_

Luz is making his own sounds too, although he hardly notices because he’s far too absorbed in the quiet sounds Gene is making. Only when Gene whispers, “ _shhh, gotta keep it down_ ” does Luz make an effort to swallow back his own moans and exclamations.

When they do finally break apart, Roe’s face hovers inches above his own and suddenly Luz isn’t sure his heart is working right anymore. Some distant part of his brain wonders if maybe he should see a doctor because he can feel his heart both completely stop beating and yet beat far too fast all at once. 

“I can’t do your voice,” Luz is slightly horrified that he blurts the statement out, seemingly out of nowhere. He doesn’t know why he says it or what he was thinking - or perhaps that’s the problem, he isn’t thinking at all right now - there’s far too much _Roe_ , far too close, for proper brain function.

“What?” Roe looks utterly confused at the sudden confession.

“I, uh, I can’t mimic your voice. Can do everyone else’s but not yours. I’ve been practicing too, since we met. Don’t know what’s taking me so long.” That last bit is a lie and Luz knows it - he knows damn well why it’s taking so long and has known the reason quite clearly since Perconte pointed it out, even if he didn’t want to admit to himself at first. ”But you might be stuck with me until I get your voice right.”

“An’ how long will that take?” Roe presses a kiss to Luz’s temple. “Weeks?”

“Definitely.”

Roe presses another kiss to Luz’s cheek, “Months?”

“Maybe.”

“Hmm,” this time there’s a kiss to the corner of Luz’s jaw, “years?” The word is mumbled against Luz’s skin, sending spikes of goosebumps down his body in an electric wave.

“Possibly.” Luz barely gets the word out, hardly recognizes his own voice in the whisper quiet way it slips out.

“An’ the more I talk, the faster you’ll pick it up?”

Luz has to clear his throat before he can respond. “Yeah. Need to hear it to learn it,” Luz, face flushed, grins up at Roe, “Guess you’ll have to tell me all those old Cajun stories after all.”

“Mmm.”

“Like that one about the louie garoos. Lou garooies? Shit. What’re they called again?”

Roe makes an amused sound at the back of his throat but doesn’t respond.

“Gene?”

“Mmhmm?”

Luz’s eyes meet Roe’s and he can see the mischief that fills them - it’s a playfulness that extends down to the smirk forming on Roe’s face.

“Oh, so no more talking then?”

“Mmm-mm.”

The delight that explodes through Luz’s chest makes its way out in a sudden fit of laughter. Luz manages to gather himself quickly and cups Roe’s face in his hands, pulling him down into a series of kisses, breaking them only long enough to get out a teasing “Well, I guess we’ll just have to do _other_ things then.”


End file.
